


Constellations

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, M/M, thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:43:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet moment in Pete and Patrick's shared hotel room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> I guess I should start by saying hi, I'm (quite obviously) dansmithereens and this is the first fic I'm posting to this account. I had an account in the past but i stopped enjoying the fandom and the reputation. I started enjoying a different fandom, so I abandoned that account and created this one. I wrote this unbeta'ed and in 30 minutes so if its absolute crap, all mistakes are mine, and yeah. Cool.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Fall Out Boy, any of its members, or anything other persons or groups affiliated with it, real or fiction. This is a work of fiction written for the purpose of entertainment. As far as I know, none of the evnts that occur in his fic are real/have happened. If your name is Pete Wentz and/or Patrick Stump (and, to a lesser degree Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley, as well as any other associated person(s)) and you are reading, please turn the fuck back around. Please go tend to your children or drumkit or whatever.
> 
> Based on the prompt from otpprompts@tumblr "Imagine Person A of your OTP covered in freckles. Person B kisses them and calls them skin stars."

They are laying together in the dark hotel room, Pete's arms wrapped tightly around Patrick' s waist and Patrick's hands fisted in Pete's shirt. It's late, probably past midnight, and Patrick is alseep, soft little snuffles being let out as he breathes in and out peacefully, and his face looking relaxed. He looks so young in this oblivious state, and Pete finds it horribly endearing.

Pete's not asleep, of course, but it's normal by now. He's almost never alseep. His eyes are open and shining as he admires the man curled into his side. The room is almost completely silent, save for the sounds of people walking down the hall, muted car horns, and Patrick's breathing, and it's all so domestic . Light from the outside city glows in an ambience, highlighting Patrick's features as if they were cast out of moonlight. 

Pete rucks up the edge of Patrick's shirt on his side, which is oversized and makes Patrick look slightly feminine. It makes him look even more diminuitive, if that was possible. Pete traces the freckles there, a few tiny dots sprinkled in one generally isolated spot. Patrick has got freckles almost everywhere on his torso, but they are most prominent against his porcelain skin on his side, and Pete rubs them as if they are part of a little connect the dots game on Patrick's body.

Pete loves Patrick, and Pete loves Patrick's body. He loves the Pacific-like blue eyes of his lover, flecked with gold and green. He loves the thin layer of squishyness that shrouds Patrick's whole body, which makes him even cuddlier for Pete. He loves Patrick's lips, full and pink and oh-so-kissable. He loves Patrick, would love Patrick no matter what because he's _Patrick,_ beautiful, golden Patrick.

Pete rubs circles onto the freckles, humming quietly. The smaller man next to him rustles a bit and shifts, which makes the bed creak, and opens his eyes. Groggy blues stare up into his shining browns. 

Patrick lets out a tiny yawn, and mumbles something quiet at Pete. Pete can't hear him, or maybe he just wasn't paying attention, was too busy admiring his 'Trick that he didn't hear what the singer said.

"Huh?" Pete asks, brushing Patrick's hair off of his forehead and pressing a kiss to it.

"I said, shouldn't you be asleep, since we have a performance tomorrow?" Patrick's voice is drowned in sleepiness and he yawns again.

"Mm, maybe. Whatever," Pete shrugs half heartedly, "I was just admiring your skin stars," he finishes, fingers rubbing against the slight spots of pigmentation on Patrick's milky skin.

"Skin stars? Those are freckles, Pete," Patrick mumbles, mock exasperatedly, but his words are tinged with warmth.

"Nope. Those are skin stars. You're my beautiful night sky and those are skin stars, which make up a whole skin constellation," Pete gushes, fingers tracing patterns on Patrick's back nonsensically.

Patrick shakes his head, grateful for the darkness which hides the slight blush that has crept onto his cheekbones. He buries his head in Pete's chest, muttering quietly, "You're an idiot, Pete."

Pete laughs quietly, continuing to gently run his hands under the hem of Patrick's shirt and against his back. "I am an idiot, but I'm your idiot," he pauses to press a kiss to Patrick's hair, "and you love me."

Patrick sighs contently, smiling into Pete's chest. "I do love you. Goodnight, Pete. Get some sleep," he whispers, yawning for a final time and then his eyes flicker shut.

Pete smiles, tucking Patrick's head under his chin. He speaks quietly, "I love you too, my little star. G'night, I'll try to get some sleep." His eyes shut and he pulls Patrick closer to him, and he finally falls asleep, pressed against the most important person in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far, if you did. This was basically a ''YAY its almost midnight time to write randomly!!" piece of fluff that just gushed into something a wee bit longer. Also, I calim all responsibility for overuse of adverbs and commas.  
> 


End file.
